Heartstrings + Music Sheets

8.3.14

Rick,

Your eyes light up when you talk about music. But not just any music–your vision and dreams for the future. I’ve seen you get so excited and completely lost in your words, that you run out of breath. And that’s rare. I’ve heard you sing and play guitar for a few years now, so I was thrilled to shoot these images for your album. Helping you pull this off was a privilege, and it was seriously a blast. We worked against the clock…the Texas heat definitely came with a vengence that day. But thanks to our drinks and that fresh pineapple, we were able to keep things rolling. And how could I forget our last-minute shots by the field, with a few minutes left of Golden Hour. Those made for some of the best shots. (Funny how that happens!) But, if I had to choose a favorite moment from your session at the river, it was when you pulled the folded letter from your guitar case and let me read it. The fact that you carry this sweet letter from your younger sister said more to me about the heart and soul of your music, than anything else. After all, that’s what’s behind all of us–what we value at the core will naturally find its way out if we let it. And that’s exactly what you’re doing.

You’ve been working so hard on this project, and your dedication is paying off. I’m proud of you, Rick. Everyone in your life is cheering for you, and we all want to see you succeed. But above all, I want you to be happy! Keep chasing!

Truly,

“This is what my heart sounds like.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

9.27.14

Henline,

Thank you for your service, and for having heart to overcome and conquer. Many faces of you are captured in these images, Henline. Some are raw, precious moments. Others are fun and candid. Yet all are flawfless reflections of you.

Thank you for allowing me to witness all of it–all of you.

Truly,

Two men to be admired. Bobby Henline stands before Danny Dietz’s statue.

Honoring one of their own.

Danny Dietz paid the ultimate sacrifice during Operation Red Wings.

This sweet little man right here. He never met his uncle, but his love for him clearly shows as he reaches out to his metal boot. This is a moment you can’t stage.

Such a sweet moment between Bobby and Carter. Instead of a high five or fist pump, Carter wrapped his little hand around the end of Bobby’s arm. This moment felt like slow motion.

While driving to the hotel, I noticed Bobby looking out the window. We had been laughing with his friends, but he suddenly fell silent. I wanted to save this brief moment, as he caught his reflection in the window, and stared out into the mist.

We came across different crosses drawn and laid out beside this hill. It felt like a shrine, where individuals who had passed through before us, left little pieces of themselves in the dirt. Bobby is looking for sticks to make his own cross.

There’s always time for a selfie.

The group of strangers we ran into knew some comedy themselves.

We settled into our hotel and prepared to walk through downtown Estes Park. But before we left, I checked to see if Bobby was ready, and I saw this…he was tying his shoe on his lap. I quietly ran to get my camera so I could capture this innocent moment. There was something about it that grabbed me. Just pure, candid, raw.

Bobby reads an article on Robin Williams.

She stopped Bobby to thank him for his service. He hears it often, but each time he responds with authentic gratitude and humility as he looks them in the eye. His expression says it all.

Billy and Bobby sharing a moment. They didn’t even know I was watching.

Bobby found the perfect pair of boots for his granddaughter, Addison.

We walked through downtown Estes Park, grabbed lunch, passed out flyers, and raised awareness for History and Heroes. Strangers stopped Bobby along the way so they could shake his hand, tell him thank you, offer a hug…and some just needed to cry.

Iced white mocha, anyone?

Bobby shared his story at a Baptist church on the evening of September 10th. The church fell silent as he talked about his sustained injuires and journey of recovery. I saw tears glistening on their cheeks and crumpled tissues in their hands. I heard their sighs and subtle “Amens.”

Bobby took the audience from tears to laughter…then back to tears from laughing so hard.

This is one of my favorite moments from Colorado. Mrs. Dietz (mother of Danny Dietz) helped Bobby adjust his sleeve and buttoned it for him. I was looking away to snap a photo of something happening across the room, but when I turned around my eyes fell upon this scene. I barely caught it.

After he spoke, Bobby greeted and took pictures with strangers, friends, and fellow veterans.

The front row that evening was reserved for the family of Danny Dietz. But I’d like to think he was there, too, sitting alongside them.

One of my pictures of Bobby…just sitting beside the river, enjoying a cup of coffee.

The trip wouldn’t be complete with a closing selfie from the last day.

I have no doubt Bobby left his mark on Colorado, and those who crossed his path.